


Overwatch Scraps and Snippets

by Solrika



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Cryptozoology, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Gen, M/M, Single Parents, Some Ideas Free to a Good Home, Trans Character, Werewolves, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrika/pseuds/Solrika
Summary: A purgatory for all the half-finished and/or abandoned ideas. For organizational purposes, each AU gets its own chapter, and if a chapter is updated after its initial posting I'll state it here.





	1. TransWoman!Gabriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for indirect transmisogyny and a moment of dubious consent

Before the army, Gabriel had beautiful hair. It’s against regulation, but she puts off cutting it as long as she can, up until the day a trainer grabs her by the ponytail and puts her on the mat. “Vanity gets you nowhere, Reyes,” he tells her.

He’s got that smile Gabriel’s come to hate–little girl, it says, silly little girl. She wants to snarl in his face, spit how it’s not vanity if it’s self-preservation. She wants to tell him how she spent years coaxing and caring for this hair until its braided length brushed the back of her thighs, how her mother would spend hours teasing oil through every strand with Gabriel sitting at her feet. She wants to tell him about symbols and protection–but she knows that smile wouldn’t listen.

So Gabriel borrows a pair of clippers and shaves it all off. No more handholds for them, she thinks, no more weaknesses that they can see. It’s not the first time she’s had to decide this. It won’t be the last. 

The next day, she slams her trainer into the ground and shows him her teeth. 

~

When Gabriel is little, her parents have a whispered argument about who should take her to the doctor. It’s midnight, and she should be asleep, but instead Gabriel crouches outside their bedroom door and listens.

“They’ll say I’m just trying to make her  _like me_ ,” her Mami hisses, and Gabriel wonders why it would be bad to be like Mami. “Asad, it has to be you.”

“What if I don’t know what to say?” Gabriel hears Baba pacing across the room. Back and forth, back and forth. “Gloria, I don’t know how to handle this, not like you–”

“You’re going to have to learn,” Mami snaps. 

“I know, I  _want_  to, I just–” Baba stops, and Gabriel knows he’s throwing up his hands. “Gloria,” he says, pleading. “Gloria, it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I’m afraid I’ll just make it harder for her. Please, at least come with me?”

Mami must be doing that face, the one where she scrunches up her nose and narrows her eyes. It comes through in her voice. “You do all the talking, though.”

“As long as you make sure I don’t forget anything.”

“Alright. Fine.” A big sigh. “Fine.” 

“Thank you.” 

Gabriel hears smooching, and makes a face at the closed door. She wanders back to her bed when the kissing sounds continue.

 In the morning, Mami is tense–she smiles at Gabriel like always, but it slips off her face the moment she turns away. Baba’s not much better, staring into his tea as if it holds answers to a question Gabriel doesn’t know. In the silence, Gabriel eats her breakfast. 

They’re getting bundled into the car when Gabriel decides she’s had enough, the reveal of her broken rules be damned. “I don’t want to go to the doctor.”

“What? Habibti, we have an appointment–”

“He doesn’t like Mami.” Gabriel folds her arms and frowns up at them from her carseat. “I heard you talking. He doesn’t want me to be like her.”

“Oh, mija,” Mami sighs, and her smile goes soft and sad in a way Gabriel hates. “It’s okay.” 

“No it’s  _not_!” Gabriel thumps her feet against her carseat for emphasis. “You’re the best! If he doesn’t like you, I don’t like him! I don’t wanna go!” 

Baba and Mami share one of those grown-up looks that mean they’re talking without saying anything out loud. Gabriel folds her arms and tries to make her face as determined as possible. 

“We could always find a new pediatrician,” Baba finally offers. He reaches out to hold Mami’s hand. “Gabi has a point.”

Mami shakes her head, huffs out a helpless-sounding laugh. “This is about you, mija, not me.”

“Well I don’t wanna go.” Gabriel makes herself even more determined-looking.

“Our insurance does cover other choices,” Baba points out. 

Mami laughs again, but like she’s letting something go this time. “Okay. I guess you win, Gabi–we’ll find a doctor who likes me, okay?”

“Good,” Gabriel declares. Crisis averted, she smiles up at her parents and decides she might as well push it– “Can we get ice cream?”

“Why not,” Mami chuckles, and off they go.

~

When she is sixteen, and full of pubescent fury, someone at a con tries to grab her ass. She punches the boy square in the teeth. It breaks her hand, but the howl of pain he lets out is worth it. 

She won’t cry until she’s back home, when Mami and Baba have her nestled between them on the couch, making worried clucking noises over her hand. Mami gathers her up, and Baba rubs her back, and Gabriel wails. It feels silly, like she’s a little kid again. But the tears keep coming and she was scared, for a moment back there, so scared–

She sobs it out on Mami’s shoulder. 

It’s three years later when the first omnium malfunctions–that’s what they call it in the news, a malfunction, even though it leads to Russia gunning down a squad of housekeeper robots gone rabid. There’s another malfunction a month later, across the globe, then another. It’s just the stirrings of what will eventually become the Crisis. But when the fifth incident occurs, it’s enough to make Gabriel scared. 

She doesn’t yet have more than a seed of the part of her brain that will sense a sea change long before anyone else can read the currents–that will come with the S.E.P. But she has enough. Just enough, to stare at the recruiting posters, to remember the crack of fist against teeth. 

The first omnium revolts in earnest. It’s learned, and this time what it spews out into the Russian countryside isn’t housekeepers but war machines.

Gabriel feels the waves move. The next day, she joins the army.  

~

Loving Jack Morrison is exhausting. Gabriel can’t quite remember how they fell together–it’s all a haze of injections and vomiting and clammy shoulder pressed against clammy shoulder. After it all, there they are–Jack and Gabi, Gabi and Jack. 

They’re well-matched as battlefield partners, better matched in bed. They look good next to each other, and the higher-ups always shuttles them to the front of the pack when they’re taking pictures to send to the brass. It’s no surprise when they’re paired together in the field. 

And yet.

Loving Jack Morrison is exhausting.

He’s so hungry for her. Gabriel feels, at first, like this is something to be proud of. He’s beautiful, and she’s the one he wants. He pulls her into bed night after night and she goes willingly. In the mornings, at lunch, he asks her questions, pulls learning out of her throat. He wants to listen to her speak. She likes to be heard. 

It is months before she realizes what she’s doing is teaching–trying to mold Jack Morrison into something softer and sweeter and more considerate, perhaps. Not that he’s not already soft and sweet and considerate, but he could stand to know why ‘thug’ is not the best word choice for criminals anymore. He could learn some more feminist theory besides “be nice to all ladies for the sake of being nice.” There are a thousand ways a sweet boy could hurt someone, if he just doesn’t know what to say. 

Gabriel asks him, once, why he doesn’t just Google all this. She snaps it, really, after a long day of leading soldiers through mud and foliage, when her gloves are covered in a spray of blood and all she wants to do is lay down and sleep. She’d let him bruise her lips with a relieved kiss. He wants to cover her body with his mouth to make sure she’s still alive, so she manages to convince herself into it. (She fakes the orgasm so he doesn’t get his feelings hurt by her complete lack of interest. It’s easier than expected.) But the idea of decoding systematic racism for pillowtalk is even less enticing. 

“I like to hear you talk,” he says. “You explain it so well.”

He  _does_  take everything to heart, Gabriel reasons. If she wants, sometimes, to do something other than lecture–well. She also has a sense of duty.

~

 

~

She knows, deep down, that one of the boys being picked to helm their fledgeling organization is inevitable. She’d hoped, though–wished that maybe the PR teams would take a more progressive stance, wished that her record would outshine her face. It doesn’t, and she swallows down the bile and claps Jack on the back in congratulations.  

It’s harder to stomach Ana being the one to be his second. Gabriel tries to tell herself that the jealousy is because she’s no longer the one at Jack’s side. It works, almost, until the day winds to a close and she finds herself staring at Ana across an emptying conference table. She should go. Should remove herself from the bitterness welling up in her throat. She stays put.

Jack calls a goodbye from the door and they both turn to watch him leave.

“I thought you’d be the one next to him,” Ana says at last. Gabriel feels those sniper eyes studying her face. “You’re upset.”

“No,” Gabriel lies, smoothly as she can. Tucks her hands in her pockets and slouches carelessly in her chair to complete the image. “I’ll get to be more hands-on this way.”

“Yes.” Ana doesn’t blink. “You’re still upset.”

Gabriel laughs. “Why would I be upset?”

“I don’t know,” Ana replies. “But you are.”

Gabriel wants to deny it again, wants to let the truth stay quiet and secret, but it’s been a long day being passed over for things she can’t control. “You’re prettier than me,” she grinds out. Gestures at Ana, small, slender Ana, who could almost be called delicate if you don’t look too close. “You’re the picture of uncomplicated womanhood,” Gabriel adds, mouth twisting. “Better optics. Easier.”

Ana doesn’t do her the discredit of denying it. “It’s a stupid reason for choosing leaders. If it were merits alone, you would be leading us.”

“But it’s not,” Gabriel retorts.

“No,” and Ana’s grin is sardonic. “It never is.”

“Isn’t that the fucking truth,” Gabriel snorts. 

Ana makes an assenting noise, nose crinkling in disgust. “Donkey’s asses,” she mutters in Arabic, and it’s enough to spur a real laugh out of Gabriel. It breaks away a bit of the tension she’s been holding in her chest. Nothing is going to change, but at least Ana is as equally upset by it as she is. It helps.

Ana’s still looking at her. She doesn’t squirm in her seat, just waits it out. She’s not a sniper, but she has patience enough.

Finally, Ana stands, walks over to stand besides her. It’s a shock when her hands cradle Gabriel’s face, callous-rough fingers stroking against her cheeks. “Do you want me to fight it for you?” she asks. 

It makes something in Gabriel ease, like a bone being set back into place. For a moment, she wants to say  _yes_ , but the part of her brain that’s lain dormant since the Crisis spins up again, thinking of what-ifs and could-bes. It would be a long battle. A bitter one. And if she won, then the public eye would be on her forever– _someone_  has to be the first, thinks Gabriel, but she’s already saved the world. Another woman can be the one to climb that mountain. 

After a long while, she blows out a breath, shakes her head. “No. Thank you. But no. I… Fuck, I don’t want to be questioned for the rest of eternity.” 

“Fair enough.” Ana gives her a gentle smile. “Once the negotiations are done, before the work begins in earnest. Come stay with us in Canada.” 

“Jack might need me–”

“He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.” Ana strokes her fingers over Gabriel’s skin once more. When she draws away, she leaves the heat-echo of herself behind, burning on Gabriel’s cheeks. “I think you need a vacation.”

“There’s work to do,” Gabriel tries.

“Thomas has been wanting to meet you. It’s quiet. The food is good. And there’s a cabin where no one is worried about optics. You need to be treated as yourself again,” Ana says, and well–

“I’ll think about it,” replies Gabriel, and they both take it for the unspoken  _yes_  it is. 

~

Gabriel’s getting used to Blackwatch being the last-ditch placement for Overwatch’s problem children. It makes sense, in way. There’s less potential for PR issues in a secret organization. There’s no tolerance for incompetence. Those who simply wash out go home after signing a stack of nondisclosure agreements. And Blackwatch’s core protects its own. Any true undesirables…  _disappear_. It’s a tidy way for the UN and Overwatch to get rid of unsavory elements without the publicity of a court case. 

Gabriel doesn’t like it. She’s told Jack as much. And yet, still they keep coming.

At least it’s on a cycle, she reflects, pulling up the next round of transfers. Gives everyone time to prepare. To brace themselves. She curls her lip, and starts reading. Somewhere in the middle of the files, she stops, brow furrowing.

Angelo Gutierrez is an anomaly. Usually, there’s a discipline record many pages long attached to these people’s official files. He just has one harassment strike, filed by Overwatch’s new medical wunderkind. It doesn’t take black ops training to see  _something_  is up. 

Gabriel purses her lips, and makes a note to meet with him once the new personnel shipment arrives. 

It’s three weeks later that he’s sitting in her office. He’s still in his blues, hands nervously clasped together in his lap. At twenty-seven, he shouldn’t look young, but Gabriel’s pushing fifty–anyone who hasn’t hit thirty-five seems like a kid to her. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

Gabriel pretends not to watch him, instead lounges back in her chair and scrolls through his files. “Tell me something, Gutierrez. What did a doctor do to be given the  _honor_ ,” and she rolls the word out long and sarcastic, “to work with Blackwatch?”

His shoulders stiffen a little. “It should be in my file, ma’am.”

“Simple harassment gets you court-martialed and put on watch, Gutierrez. It takes more for someone to be transferred to Blackwatch.” Gabriel turns towards him. “What’d you do to piss off Zeigler?”

For someone named Angelo, he has a bitter laugh. “I lost my temper.”

Gabriel gestures for more.

“It was our weekly review. I–” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t happy with her. She’s been prioritizing the European candidates for the Valkyrie program and the R&D department. Several of my coworkers have been upset about it as well, but her reputation kept them from speaking up. I told her what I thought in front of the whole room.”

“Oh, kid,” and Gabriel matches his laugh for bitterness. “You never tell a white lady they’re being racist. Tell them to fix their face, and they’ll punch yours instead.” 

“I thought she’d  _listen_ ,” he mutters, staring down at his hands. “She’s always on about a good work environment, and encouraging feedback, and…  _fuck_.” He glances up, adds quickly, “Sorry, ma’am.” 

Gabriel waves it away, pulling up his files. “Do you want your old position back?”

“I don’t want to work with her again.” 

Gabriel glances back at him, the way his shoulders have curved in, and feels the same tug that led to her bringing a rangy teenage cowboy-wannabe into the Blackwatch fold. “Well, we have a couple choices.” She waits for him to look up before continuing. “I could transfer you back into another department in Overwatch. Or, you stay here as part of our medical team. Your files say you’re qualified to be a combat medic, and if you’re comfortable with that I can pull some strings and get you approved for a Valkyrie suit.” 

“She would hate that,” Gutierrez murmurs thoughtfully.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Gabriel taps a couple buttons. “I’m putting you in the visitor’s quarters and sending you the orientation schedule. Sit through it and then figure it out, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grins at her, relief making him appear even younger. “Thank you, ma’am.” 


	2. McGenji Teen AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for child abuse

Jesse finds himself searching for excuses to touch and be touched. He leans against Genji’s shoulder, flops into his lap, laughs and tussles between classes. He can’t keep track of how many times he slings an arm around those narrow shoulders, how many times he sits down so their legs brush, how many times he reaches out to ruffle soft green hair. 

He comes home one night, flops onto the couch. Hotspur jumps up next to him, and Jesse groans to his dog, “I’m so embarrasing.”

“Like this is news, mijo,” his Papi chuckles from the kitchen.

“ _Papiiiiiiii_ ,” Jesse whines, “this is serious!”

“Oh? What now?” 

“I think I like Genji!” Jesse says, and then raises his head from the couch cushions to glare when Gabe bursts into laughter.

“Madre de Dios, mijo, even Jack saw that coming from a mile away!” 

~

Genji finds himself talking too much. Finds himself butting into conversations just so he’s not missing out on talking to Jesse, finds himself texting past midnight, finds himself too loud and too excited and yet he just can’t  _stop_. Wonder of wonders, though, Jesse never tells him to shut up, just leans forwards and grins that grin and encourages him onward. 

It leaves Genji filled with a shaky feeling inside, like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. But if Jesse’s warm smile is on the other side, he’ll jump. He’ll jump.

“I think I want you to be my boyfriend,” Genji whispers into his pillow. Tries again, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Rolls over. “I really like you, please be my boyfriend?” He stares into the darkness and tries to imagine his fingers intertwined with Jesse’s. It feels like the most wonderful, delicious, forbidden dream.

Genji groans. “I’m doomed.” 

~

When Jesse picks him up from fencing practice, Genji has a bruise blooming across his bare shoulder and pinched-tight lips. Jesse waits for him to climb into the old pickup before asking, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Genji says, flapping a hand dismissively. He reaches across the center console to crank the radio, fingers flicking through the stations in a frenetic burst of sound. “Practice just went bad.”

“Hm.” Jesse pulls out of the parking lot, heads onto the main road. Genji’s still flipping through stations, fast enough that all Jesse can hear are stuttered words here and there. “Y’sure?”

“I’m sure,” Genji bites out. The summer air feels too hot, his skin too tight. 

Jesse ‘hms’ again, and Genji knows he’s not fooled. But he doesn’t press, just rolls down the windows and offers quietly, “Wanna do my makeup when we get back to my place?” It’s a show of vulnerability hidden under a peace offering, and as always, it hits Genji somewhere deep in the gut, spooling out his anger until there’s nothing left.

“Yeah,” he says, letting out his tension in a long whoosh of a sigh. “Yeah, thanks. That’d be nice.”

Jesse just smiles at him and keeps driving. Genji settles on a station. They sit quietly, watching the houses and stores go by, until Jesse’s pulling into the driveway. Hotspur’s yapping at the door, like always, and Genji stops to ruffle his ears on the way in. 

“Dad’s out,” Jesse says, as if the absence of Gabriella and Gabe’s little Honda didn’t speak well enough on their own. “You want anything to drink?”

“Just water.” Genji follows Jesse into the kitchen, accepts a sweating glass of ice water and presses it to his neck. It feels good against his hot skin. He closes his eyes and sighs, and when he opens them again, Jesse’s a little closer, staring at him like he’s a puzzle to figure out. “What?”

“Well,” and there’s that drawl, an echo of the deep rumble that Jesse’ll sound like one day, “was gonna talk to you about something, but we can save it. ‘s not important.”

Genji swallows, sipping from his water to hide a suddenly dry throat. He waits until it’s finished to say, “You can say it.” 

“Y’sure?” Jesse asks, and he’s close enough Genji can smell him now, sweat and Dove deodorant, swaying forwards like he’s a magnet and Genji’s his lodestar. Just this feels heady–like it’s too much, like Genji’s unworthy to have Jesse looking down at him like this, big brown eyes gentle and soft. Like Genji’s unworthy of this sudden realization, that as much as Genji’s been orbiting Jesse, Jesse’s been doing some orbiting right back. That maybe–

“Sure,” Genji says, squaring his shoulders, dredging the dragon up from where it’s dwindled to just little sparks and flickers. He pretends, for a moment, he’s deserving to have this, and more, and adds, “Sure, I want to hear it.” 

Jesse grins, soft, uncertain. “Well, maybe ‘s better if I show you,” he murmurs, and then leans forwards, finally tilting all the way into Genji’s space. His big hands are so careful when they cup Genji’s sharp chin, like he’s breakable, and it almost makes Genji want to laugh. 

Jesse kisses careful, too, just a brief brush–but Genji didn’t summon up his courage for nothing, and he breathes out in a snarl of relief and brings their mouths together again, nipping at Jesse’s lips, pressing hard like if he doesn’t Jesse might up and run away. Jesse doesn’t, though. Just lets out a giggle, and gives back good as he’s getting, and Genji fists his hands into Jesse’s shirt and revels in the feeling of sharp teeth against his tongue. 

They break apart, finally, grinning and bright-eyed and panting, something a little wild in both of them, something a little wondering and new. “I like this thing you wanted to tell me,” Genji says, and Jesse lets out a guffaw.

“Oh good! Lemme tell you, I was scared t’death earlier.”

“I don’t know why,” and now Genji kisses gentler. “You’re beautiful. You’re  _wonderful_.” 

“Aw,” Jesse says, and Genji muffles the ‘shucks’ that follows with another kiss.

Gabe comes home to find them still kissing in the kitchen, pressed up against the fridge. He hip-checks Jesse out of the way, grinning slyly at their blushing faces as he puts the milk away. “I see your plan worked out, mijo,” he laughs. “Did he treat you well, Genji?”

Genji grins back, shoulders loose and relaxed. “Yessir.” 

“Good. That’s good.” Gabe’s eyes soften for a moment, and this, too, feels like more than Genji should deserve.

Jesse chuckles and presses a little kiss to his cheek, and Genji resolves to hold onto it with both hands.

~

Jesse stared at his boyfriend and his dog in outrage. “Both of you,” he declared, “are fuckin’ traitors.”

Genji blinked up at him innocently, feeding Hotspur another piece of bacon. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“You,” he pointed at Genji, “are tryin’ to steal my dog away from me with  _forbidden delights!_  And you,” he pointed at Hotspur, who completely ignored him in favor of bacon, “are  _accepting_  them!”

“It’s not my fault he likes me better,” Genji replied.

“He’s my dog!”

Gabe chose this moment to walk by, plucking Hotspur out of Genji’s lap. “You’re both wrong.” Fixing them both with a flat stare, unruffled by Hotspur’s doggie kisses, he added, “He likes  _me_  the best.”

“He’s  _my dog!_ ”

Gabe shrugged, walking back into the kitchen. “Yeah, but I’m the one who picks up his poop, mijo.” 

“Your dad wins,” Genji snickered. Jesse’s half-hearted glare only made him laugh harder. 

~

The tinny ringing of her phone woke Ana in the middle of the night. Fareeha muttered unhappily next to her as she groaned and groped around for the handset. It was only years of practice that kept her groggy “Hello?” in English and not Arabic.

“Gracias a Dios,” she heard, gasped out like a prayer, and then, “Ana, I’m so sorry, I know this is a bad time but we’re at the hospital and–Dios, Ana, the poor kid–”

“Hospital?” Ana sat up, a bolt of panic waking up her tired brain. “What happened to Jesse?”

“Not Jesse, Genji. Jesse got a call, just Genji crying and asking for us to come get him, and by the time we got there he–” There was a thud on the other side, a hissed curse, like Gabe had just punched the wall. “I’m going to kill his entire fucking family, Ana.”

“Which hospital?” She was already out of bed, hunting for pants, for something to bundle Fareeha in. “What’s his condition?”

“Sleeping and stable, gracias a Dios y la Madre. We’re at the USC medical center.” Gabe sighed. “I just–I need another adult, Ana, I’ll be honest. I have no fucking idea what to do, and I just left the room to call you so Jesse wouldn’t freak out. He’s already shook up as is.” Gabe’s voice pitched up in sudden panic. “Oh, fuck, I need to find both of them therapists, I dunno if insurance will cover that–”

“We’ll figure it out when I get there, okay?” Ana pulled a sleepily protesting Fareeha into her jacket. “Jesse can take Fareeha and get something to eat, that’ll distract him. We’ll sit down and figure it all out.”

“Okay. Okay.” A low, shaky sigh from Gabriel’s end. “I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to ask…”

“What are friends for, habibi?” She scooped up Fareeha and headed to the car. “Did you call Jack?”

“No. I don’t–I don’t want to involve him yet. I love him but he’s not a parent, you know?”

“I know.” She buckled Fareeha in, kissing her sleepy baby face. “What about your parents?”

“They’re next on my list.”

“Good. I’m going to be driving now–you’ll see me in half a hour. Hang tight, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Ana.”

“Anytime.” They hung up and she sighed, turning the key. Half a hour. That was long enough to square her shoulders for battle. 

~

Gabriel was waiting for her down in the lobby, a dark shape pacing back and forth between the carefully generic chairs in the waiting area. 

“Where’s Jesse?” Ana asked, once she was in speaking range. 

“With Genji.” Gabe led her towards the elevators. “I called some favors, got us familial visiting rights.”

Shaking her head, Ana stepped into the elevator. “Small blessings, I suppose.” She adjusted Fareeha on her hip. “What happened, Gabriel?”

He let out a long sigh, watching Fareeha mumble and tighten her hold on Ana’s jacket. “Let’s wait until Fareeha’s out of the room.”

Ana rolled her eyes, watching the numbers tick up. “She’s not even awake all the way, Gabe.”

“Still. Humor me?”

She cut her eyes over to examine his face, the tired droop of his eyes. “Alright.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel sighed again as the elevator doors opened, dragging his hand over his face. “Okay. This way.” 

They walked through an empty sitting area and down the hall, the hospital lights washing everything out. The receptionist at the waiting room was the first person they saw, and Gabe gave her a wave as she buzzed them into the ward. They paced on past quiet, darkened rooms, the steady beep of monitors and the steps of the night staff filling the silence.

Gabriel shouldered one of the doors open. Jesse was sprawled in a chair with Gabriella sitting guard beside him, Genji looking too small in the hospital bed. 

“Hey, Amma,” Jesse whispered. Gabriella perked her ears up, stub-tail wagging, and he absently scratched behind her ears. “What’re you doing here?”

“You think I wouldn’t come to help, habibi?” Ana walked over to press a kiss to his forehead. “How’re you holding up?”

“Okay.” Jesse yawned, smiling through it at the bundle of toddler in Ana’s arms. “Hi there, Aguilita.”

“I thought you could take her to the cafe to keep her busy. You mind?”

“Nah, not at all.” Jesse heaved himself out of the chair, back cracking as he stretched. He bent over to brush a gentle kiss to Genji’s cheek, and then reached out to take Fareeha from Ana. “C’mere, kiddo.”

“Take Gabriella with you,” Gabe murmured.

Jesse glanced at his father. “Sure, Papi? Usually she stays with you.”

Gabriel shrugged, eyes carefully blank. “You can give her some bread or something.” 

Jesse stared at him a moment longer, and then reached out to the dog. “Okay. C’mon, girl, let’s go get something to eat.”

Ana watched the three leave, waiting until the door clicked shut to say, “You’re more shook up by this than you’re letting on to him, aren’t you?”

Gabriel sank into the chair. “Shit, Ana. I find his boyfriend shoved into a trashcan covered in  _fucking stab wounds_ –I think I’m allowed my paranoia, thanks.” 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Running a hand over his hair, Gabriel continued, “Genji’s lucky he’s good at playing dead. He told us he fooled the uncle into thinking he’d gone too far and then just hid in that trash can until we pulled up.” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ana repeated, hissing the word through her teeth. “You call the cops?”

“We already gave the statement, they’re coming back tomorrow for Genji’s.” Gabriel’s growl was a low, rumbling noise in his chest. “I’m this close to committing murder for the kid’s sake, Ana.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle shake, even though part of her wanted nothing more than to join him in that kill. “You know that’s not a good idea.”

“I know, but–fuck!” Gabriel threw his hands up. “He’s not even eighteen, Ana! Who the hell thinks it’s okay to stab a fucking kid?” He sank back into the chair, worried eyes fixed on the slow, steady rise and fall of Genji’s chest. “And I just keep thinking I should’ve done something sooner. I kept thinking that things must be bad, with how he tried to spend as much time as he could at school or with us. If I’d just fucking  _done something_ –”

“Gabriel.” Ana gave his shoulder another shake. “Gabriel, there was nothing you could have done. If he didn’t tell you, you couldn’t know.”

“Still–”

“We’re going to do something now,” Ana interrupted. “We’re going to get Genji into safe custody and we’re going to take care of him and you’re probably going to go overboard with finding the perfect therapist. But you can’t help him if you spend time getting stuck in could-haves.”

Gabriel shot her an irritated look. “God, can you let me be a wreck for just five seconds?”

“You can be a wreck once you take Jesse home and put him to bed,” Ana said serenely. “I’ll call Reinhardt to take Fareeha, and I’ll stay here to keep watch for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I can, so I will.” Ana wrapped an arm around Gabe’s shoulders, not missing how he leant into the touch, shoulders slumping. “You’re tired, Jesse’s tired. He needs some time to be a scared little boy, and you need to make sure he’s with you and safe. Go home.”

She could sense Gabriel wavering. Patiently, she waited it out, until he finally muttered, “Okay. Fine.”

“Good choice, habibi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gabriel wrapped an arm around her waist, finally returning the hug. “I’m getting you a gift basket and you can’t stop me.”

“I like shea butter lotions.” Ana smiled at him. “Go tell Jesse the plan and get some food yourself, alright? I’ll call Reinhardt in the meantime.”

“Alright, alright.” Gabriel heaved himself upright. They stood there for a moment, arms still wrapped around each other, until he blew out a long sigh. “Thank you, Ana.”

“Anytime, Gabriel.” 

He gave her a small smile, and then slipped out the door. 

Ana stood quietly in the room for a moment, letting herself take stock of it–the monitors, the bathroom, the sightlines and the windows. Only then did she move the chair over to Genji’s bedside. 

She spent a few moments adjusting his blankets, brushing his hair back from his face. And then she sat down in the chair, settling in for the long wait. 

~

He’s in a meeting when it happens–his assistant frowning at her phone, turning to her laptop, becoming a flurry of typing fingers. He spares a glance her way and she just shakes her head at him, lips pinched tight together, and Hanzo decides to shrug and let her handle it. There’s a reason he hired Hayashi-san, after all. 

She ducks out of the meeting with an apologetic bow a few moments later, and through the windows he can see her pacing back and forth, speaking into her phone. It’s Hanzo’s turn to frown, but he makes himself look back to the others in the board room. The rest of the meeting passes as usual–nothing particularly bad, nothing particularly good–and after, he excuses himself to go meet Hayashi-san in the hall. 

She’s just saying goodbye to whomever she’s talking to when he approaches. 

“What’s happening?” he asks, and she flicks her eyes away, gestures him into an empty office. He follows, unease growing in his gut. In the safety of the company sanctum, there is rarely anything that requires her to lock the door and close the blinds. 

“It’s a family matter,” she finally says, fidgeting with her phone. 

“Do you need leave?” He is already thinking of whom he can get to fill her place until she returns, if she’ll need a plane to reach her family in Kyoto or if a private train car will work just as well, which flower business to call if something like that is needed. 

“No, no, I mean–” Hayashi-san looks away, back up at him, blurts, “Your brother is in the hospital.”

Hanzo stares, his chest starting to tighten. “What?”

“One of the PR representatives told me,” and she turns her phone towards him, showing him the news article. The headline is in English, and Hanzo doesn’t get the chance to try and decipher it before she’s continuing, “Attempted murder, according to the American paper–” she bites her lip, says softer, “Your uncle did it.”

Hanzo blinks, becomes distantly aware of his hands fisting and a ringing in the back of his head. “His status?”

“Your brother’s alive. I called the hospital he’s housed at–he’s stable, he’s being taken care of. I made arrangements to move him to a private room.” Hayashi-san takes a step forwards, lays a careful hand on his arm. “I hope you do not find it presumptuous, but I’ve cleared your schedule and chartered you a plane.” 

Hanzo takes a deep breath, nods. “Thank you.” He feels like the room is tipping.

“Of course.” Hayashi-san gives him a smile, and he can’t help swaying towards it, just a little–he wants, so badly, to be allowed to sag against her, to let someone else hold him up for just a while. 

Genji, little Genji, in the hospital. Put there by flesh and blood. Hanzo shudders, resists the urge to bare his teeth when he next asks, “And the uncle?”

“Police custody. I will make sure we can arrange a court date.” Hayashi-san’s voice is the most genteel, savage growl, and he loves her just a little more for it. She has met Genji. She understands.

“When does the plane leave?”

“This afternoon.” She steps back, removes her hand from his arm. Hanzo allows it, refuses to let himself follow no matter how much he wants to fall apart in panic. The plane, somehow, seems too far away. 

Hanzo shakes himself, makes himself grab at rationality. Genji is stable. There’s no way an extra couple hours will make a difference. He makes himself say, again, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she answers again, and the phone in her hands seems like a sword when she raises it. For a second, Hanzo sees double–Hayashi-san as a warrior of old, pledging her loyalty to the family. “All will be arranged, Shimada-sama. I promise.” 

~

Genji’s awake and playing some kind of counting game with Fareeha when Gabriel’s head snaps up, eyes narrowing. Ana catches it a moment before Jesse, and then he’s watching in bewilderment as both adults stand in near-perfect tandem. 

“Gabriella,  _guard_ ,” Gabriel snaps out, pointing to the foot of Genji’s bed, and the dog rises to attention. 

“Papi? Amma?” Jesse stares between the two in confusion, watching as Ana cracks her knuckles and his father leans forwards, looking more like a soldier than he has in years. “What’s going on?”

“We’re gonna find out,” Gabriel snarls– _snarls_ , in that voice Jesse hardly hears except for when he’s caught his father cursing Genji’s uncle out–and steps out the door. 

“Don’t worry,” Ana adds, voice light. Her eyes are too sharp, though, too focused. Jesse doesn’t miss the way she steps over to stand at Gabriella’s side to block Genji and Fareeha from view. “Gabriel’s just going to have a talk.” 

He shivers, meeting Genji’s confused eyes. There’s a brief moment of stillness, and then Genji’s gathering Fareeha closer, reaching out towards Jesse. Jesse meets him halfway, holding tight. They share another look, Genji bewildered, Jesse trying a reassuring grin. Fareeha reaches up and pats at Genji’s chin, and he breaks the stare to smile down at her. 

Jesse takes the moment to crane his head, trying to see past Ana’s shoulders. He can make out the angry lines of his father’s back, can barely see another three men dwarfed in front of him, all sharp lines and well-pressed suit. Can barely hear the low, angry growl seeping out of his father, and the hissing response from the man closest.

Genji leans forwards, eyebrows knotting together. “What’s happening?” he whispers.

“Papi’s talking to some guys in suits,” Jesse whispers back. “I dunno why thou–”

Jesse’s next words are interrupted by the snap of accented English as one of the men raises his voice. “If you think you can keep me from that room–”

Gabriel’s snarl drowns him out. “You have no fucking right. You think you can leave Genji with that fucking monster and just waltz back in like nothing’s fucking wrong?”

“You cannot keep me from him,” the man snaps back, and when Jesse looks back at his boyfriend, Genji’s gone still and pale. 

“Genji?” Carefully, like Genji’s a spooked horse, Jesse touches his shoulder. “Sweetheart?” 

“That’s Hanzo,” Genji breathes, eyebrows knotting together. “That’s my  _brother_.”

“Well fuck,” Jesse mutters, rising to his feet. “D’ya like him?”

“I–” Genji blinks. “I guess so?”

“Okay.” Jesse strides forwards before he can think better of it, pushing past Ana and Gabriella. “I’m gonna keep Papi from murderin’ him for you then!” He can hear Genji break out into a sudden, startled laugh, and can’t help the grin of satisfaction off his face. 

Gabriel’s already turned by the time Jesse’s walked up, eyes softening slightly at the sight of his son. It doesn’t stop the growl in his voice when he says, “Hijo. Back in the room.”

Swallowing, Jesse looks past him towards the three men in the suits. They’re all short, like Genji, and he can see a certain resemblance in the eyes and the nose between his boyfriend and the man with the snapping voice. “I reckon you’re Hanzo,” he says, doing his best to ignore the bulk of disapproving father right next to him. “I reckon y’want t’ see your brother.”

“At last, an American with sense,” Hanzo huffs.

Jesse looks to his father. “I reckon y’don’t wanna let him,” he says, and doesn’t wait for the answer–the ‘yes’ is clear as day on Gabriel’s face. He looks between the two men, and tries his best to feel all of his six-feet-nothing, tries to keep his voice from cracking. “Did anyone ask  _Genji_  what he wanted first?”

Hanzo splutters. Gabriel just lets out a thoughtful rumble, eyeing Jesse up and down as if seeing him in a new light. 

Behind him, Jesse can hear the slight squeak of Ana’s boots. He knows she’s meaning for them to hear her turn towards Genji, meaning for her voice to carry when she says gently, “We apologize. What do you want, habibi?”

“Cake,” Fareeha says into the silence, and Genji bursts out into half-hysterical laughter.

“You, little eagle, are a  _genius_ ,” he cackles. His voice is too high, too shaky, and Jesse cocks his head back far enough to catch the way Genji swipes a hand across his eyes. 

Jesse knows Gabriel’s caught it too when his father sighs, shifting his stance to something less like a soldier. 

Glancing up, Genji flicks his eyes between them all. Something in Jesse’s heart hurts at the way he’s braced back against the pillows, as if ready to spring off into a sprint. Letting out a long, shaky breath, Genji says, “I want… I want to talk to you, Hanzo.”

“See?” Hanzo hisses to Gabriel, who merely curls his lip back in response.

“But–” Genji swallows, eyes darting to the side. “I want–Ana–I want Ana to stay.” He immediately looks up at her, cringing. “I’m sorry, I know you have Fareeha–”

Ana snorts, reaching down to take her baby. “Habibi, what do you think Gabriel’s here for? Of course I can stay with you.” She strides out to plop Fareeha into Gabriel’s arms, and Jesse can’t help but roll his eyes when they do that secret army buddies telepathy thing during the handoff. It’s been happening since before he was born, but it’s still irritating to know they’re discussing  _something_  and he has no idea what.

Ana turns briskly back to the room, not even waiting for Hanzo before resuming her customary spot next to Genji’s bed. Gabriel jerks his head at Jesse, and together they walk off towards the elevators while Hanzo strides into Genji’s room. 

“Gabi staying behind?” Jesse asks, once they’re on their way to the cafe.

“Ana wanted the backup,” Gabriel replies, shifting Fareeha a little higher on his shoulder. Jesse’s not sure if he’s joking or not. 

They walk in silence a bit longer, passing other patients and visitors in the halls. Fareeha waves to everyone. 

Jesse looks at the tension in his father’s shoulders, and asks, “What’re we gonna do, Papi?”

“What?”

“If Hanzo wants to take Genji.” 

Gabriel rumbles again, that low noise that Jesse’s always associated with someone being in some deep shit. “If Genji wants to go, we let him. If he wants to stay, we fight that fucking bastard for all he’s worth.” Abruptly, he reaches out with his free arm, pulling Jesse to his side. “You know we love you, right, mijo?”

Jesse blinks at the sudden tone change. “Yes?”

“And you know we love  _you_ , Fareeha?”

She nods, grinning up at Gabriel. “Yeah, Ammu!”

“Good.” They step into the elevators, and Gabriel ruffles Jesse’s hair. “You tell me if we’re getting lax on that, alright?”

“Sure, Papi.” Jesse leans against his father’s side. Watches the numbers count down, listens to Fareeha’s mutters to herself. “Why you ask?”

Gabriel’s sigh is strong enough to lift the hair from Fareeha’s forehead. “Fuck me, but I don’t think Genji’s got too much of that certainty in his life. Jesse, mijo, I want to make sure you  _never_  feel that way.”

 “Oh.” Jesse swallows, wraps his arms around his dad’s waist. “Of course I know you love me, Papi.” 

“Good.” Gabriel hugs them tight, Jesse and Fareeha both. “Means I’m doing my job right.” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://wakeupt.tumblr.com/post/152405637209/mcgenji-week-day-5-family-foto-familiar
> 
> Wakeupt did this beautiful drawing of the family :)


	3. Dreamer AU

I’m planning to write something polished for this AU eventually, but I couldn’t wait to share. 

It’s mostly canon-compliant except there are  _two_  kinds of results from the SEP stuff: the supersoldiers and the dreamers. In the most basic sense, dreamers have prophetic dreams about their partners that are then used to inform decisions in the field. Gabriel, as the tactician, is the dreamer paired with Jack’s soldier.

Dreamers end up being used more as information banks than personnel–put them in medically-induced comas and keep them on life support for a few days, wake them up and get the info, and put them under again. The top-secret nature of SEP means that there’s not much their paired soldiers can do short of smuggling their dreamer out. 

( “Gabe, don’t you want to leave?” 

“And have us both marked as deserters? Put a bounty on your head for stealing government property?”

“You’re not  _property_.”

“…”

“Gabe, seriously, just say the word and I’ll get you out of here.”

“I’ll stick it out, Jackie. Someone’s got to watch your back out there.”)

The omnic crisis is their ticket to escape. SEP soldiers are being used in the war, and their dreamers go with. It’s easier to smuggle them out when they’re not deep in top-secret facilities. It’s harder for the government to hide how they’re treating them.

Dreamers also start… changing.

Their dreams, once set weeks in the future, start to jump to the present and past and back again.

They sometimes sleep walk.  When they’re awake, they’re subject to normality, but when they’re asleep they just… get places. There’s no way to fight it. They just go where the dream takes them. Some end up appearing on the battlefield, wandering out where they shouldn’t, going out in a blaze of glory.

Others begin to talk, even while stuck in their comas. The words are unforgettable, sticking in the mind of whoever hears it until the information is given to someone who can use it. Gabriel falls into this category, muttering intel in an unceasing stream whenever Jack is in the field. 

By the end of the crisis, the remaining dreamers are all either talkers or walkers, even if they’re stuck in medically-induced comas. Jack, due in part to what Gabe murmurs in his sleep, ends up as Overwatch commander, and takes Gabriel with him.

Gabe still has a connection to Blackwatch in that he starts dreaming of things that aren’t related to Jack. He mutters about Deadlock, he tosses and turns with ‘Talon’ on his lips, he bolts awake and grabs whoever’s closest and rasps, “They’re going to kill the Shimada boy, get someone to move!”

He and Jack are paired, linked, so it  _is_  still mostly Jack he dreams of, and Jack he talks to when he’s awake, Jack who carries him down to the mess hall just because he can and because it makes Gabe laugh. Sometimes Jack sits with him when he’s dreaming, and listens, and when there’s nothing to worry about Gabe dreams wonderful strange things instead and murmurs them to Jack in his sleep.

Dreamers sleep a lot anyway, so Gabe’s not really able to participate in much, but he enjoys being able to sleep when he wants to instead of being stuck in a coma. He’s treated more like a human, less like a tool, with Jack.

There’s not a fallout between them in this au, because Jack’s got it drilled into him to listen to Gabe and Gabe trusts Jack after all the time Jack’s spent trying to keep him safe. Instead, Talon steals Gabriel and decimates the base, and 'Reaper’ is just Gabriel kept under and talking talking talking the future–but only some of it is useful to Talon, and others send the people who hear it mad. They don’t know they have to take it to Jack. The words will get their way one way or another.

Every so often Gabriel sleepwalks, and shows up wandering around a place that Talon wants to attack a couple hours before they actually do. Though his muscles are atrophied to the point of uselessness, sleepwalkers are under their own rules. People start to realize the connection between the skeleton man and the Talon attacks, and that’s how "death will follow” gets attached to Gabe.

Jack figures it out pretty quickly into his stint as 76, and ends up chasing the cell holding Gabriel around the globe to get him back. He’s Gabriel’s soldier, after all. His mission is to keep his dreamer safe.

Gabe starts sending more agents crazy the closer Jack gets, as something in his mind tries to send messages to his partner. They end up becoming the breadcrumb trail, since Jack begins running into people muttering “I have to tell you he said you need to know _I have to tell you”_

And Jack’s seen this before, once or twice, back when SEP kept the dreamers captive.  A few figured it out before everyone else that they were only going to be tools–and those were the ones who screamed, and screamed, sending doctors mad and unsettling the whole base until they were put down. Somewhere there’s a dreamer who wants out.

Jack’s got a pretty good idea of who it is.

He follows the breadcrumb trail of Talon agents, even though it is a little strange to be hiding in a safehouse when something comes banging on the door. It’s especially strange when he creeps outside to find a half-dead Talon agent slamming themselves into the door while muttering “have to tell him have to tell him have to tell him–”

As he gets closer the agents get 'fresher’ and they’re less… 'I dragged myself here over a mountain because the compulsion in my head is so strong’ and more able to actually answer his questions. Jack takes full advantage of this to find their base. 

It’s suicide to take on a whole terrorist cell on his own, but Jack is SEP, and more than that–he can  _feel_  Gabe in there, some vibration sewed into his DNA calling for him. 

He finds Gabriel in a locked room (Talon was D O N E with having him send their agents off into the great unknown). Jack is at No Fucks To Give stage–his dreamer is in danger, he is getting him out, no measly wall is gonna stop him.

Gabe looks like shit, which to be fair–most people look like shit after being kept on life support for weeks. Jack’s helped other soldiers smuggle their dreamers out of SEP, he knows what to do, how to pull out IVs and staunch the blood and get the tube out of Gabe’s throat, and he does this while Talon agents run into the traps he’s set further down the hall.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” he croons, gently easing the tube out of Gabe’s throat, and someone in the background screams as they set off a small grenade.

He’ll shake once it’s over, once he’s got Gabe’s limp form in his arms–he’ll shake then, a little, because God, Gabe’s so skinny and he’s been gone so long and Jack’s scared, he’s so scared–

(because on some level, Jack’s not used to operating alone–ever since Gabe started sleep talking, he’s had a comm by his bed, and Jack’s used to that voice murmuring in his ear on every mission, constant and calm and steering him right every time)

(it’s so strange, being alone)

(he can’t bear the thought of being alone again)

but he’s got Gabe, he has Gabe now, and so Jack only lets himself be scared for a moment. He hitches Gabe a little higher, holds him more securely, and sets back off through the base. They get away in a stolen jeep, tearing off in a squeal of rubber and with one emphatic middle finger on Jack’s part.

Gabriel starts murmuring halfway through the safehouse, snatches of words and phrases Jack can’t quite make out. It makes him nervous again. Sleep talkers aren’t always the most articulate, but they’re clear. It’s not normal to hear Gabe mumble.

Jack carries him inside, gets him in a real bed, sets about making some tea for himself as a way to steady his hands, finds some ice chips so Gabe’ll have something for his dry throat.

And then sits.

And waits.

And waits, and waits, and waits–paces around the room, dozes off in his chair, starts awake again and starts to pace once more.

The sun is low in the sky when Gabriel stirs, blinks, makes a noise that’s probably supposed to be “what?” and comes out as “whuh?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jack says, and tries not to crush Gabe’s hand in excitement.

There’s some confused mumbling from Gabriel, and some very obvious  _hi hello I love you!_  from Jack as he helps Gabe sit up and suck on some ice chips

Gabriel dozes off soon after he’s done with the ice chips, but he falls asleep stretched over Jack’s lap this time, and holding his hand. He wakes and falls asleep again a couple more times before he’s truly awake, and when it happens Jack’s making chicken broth so there’s something easy for Gabe to eat.

“Holy shit,” Gabriel croaks, and it makes Jack spin around and stare, “is that for me?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, grin breaking over his face. “Homemade, even.”

“I love you,” Gabriel says, very sincerely, and Jack laughs and goes over to scoop him up and cover him with kisses.

They eat their breakfast together. Gabriel leans against Jack’s side and takes sips of homemade chicken-and-vegetable broth, Jack holding the mug for him with one hand, cradling him with the other arm, only actually eating his own breakfast when Gabe sasses him to.

They’re smiling ear-to-ear, the both of them, and even if Gabe can’t hold his mug he can still turn his face up for a kiss. Jack gladly indulges him, every time.


	4. Angel Gabriel

So have we considered Gabriel Reyes as one of the avatars of the literal archangel of the lord?

Gabriel, the messenger angel. Binding his divinity down into a human form, hoping to guide humanity through the Crisis into a golden age. He’s in a body too small and weak to truly comprehend what it holds, in a shape ill-chosen for the powers surrounding it, but still yearning, ever-yearning, towards helping humanity onwards.

The Father says _, I will make a Heaven on Earth,_ and what the humans don’t realize is that they’re supposed to help. 

 _Gabriel_ , The Father says,  _you are made to aid them. You will carry My word to them, so that they may rise_. 

And by all that is holy, Gabriel  _tries_. There are no demons–that would be easy–just humanity, in all its glory and gore, set against him. He has seen them through a hundred eyes, a thousand years of wrapping himself in disguises too small for his wings. He has walked with them since they left the Garden, and with every step tried to help them find the way back. 

(he will fail, he has failed, he will continue to strive, time and time over throughout the ages)(he would despair but he is an angel) (it is only the human shell that despairs) (the angel rises and tries again) (and oh, how he loves them)

“I didn’t know you prayed,” Jack says, when he finds Gabriel murmuring over a rosary.

 _Everything prays_ , thinks Gabriel, the susurration of the city in his ears,  _everything sings to the Heavens and wants to be heard, the rocks the water the very air itself prays, because what is prayer but a conversation, a song, a hope_ –

“My family is religious,” he says instead, and shrugs a shoulder too light without its wings.


	5. Circus AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is free to a good home!

Wilhelm hoists Fareeha up on one shoulder, Aleksandra up on the other. He may have been doing it since they were no more than babies, but Fareeha still giggles in delight. Aleksandra flexes a bicep once she’s settled, telling him with a grin, “One day, I’ll be able to lift  _you_.”

“Of that, katzchen, I have no doubt,” Wilhelm says, completing their little ritual, and carries them off to the fairway.

Torbjorn’s already gathered a small crowd of women around his jewelry booth, and he waves as the three of them pass, shouting, “Hoi there, strongman!”  The girls wave down at the gawkers as Wilhelm flexes and preens, and then they’re off to check to see how the rest of the booths have set up.

Winston’s sitting under the banner of  _Incredible Intelligent Ape_ , gesturing with a jar of peanut butter as he lectures on astronomy to the crowd. It’s obvious that he’s already charmed the children by how many have tugged away from their parents to sit at his feet. Lena perches by his side, spit-shining her brass knuckles and warning away hecklers with a too-sharp smile.

“Girls!” she calls as Wilhelm goes past. “When’s the show starting? Winston wants to know if he’s got time to go into astrophysics.”

“Ask Hana,” Fareeha calls back. “She’s out hustling the fairway right now.”

“I’ll keep my eye out!” 

Amelie and Gerard, the  _Interlocking Lovers,_  are across the way. Gerard had lettered the sign over their little booth himself, and the gold flourishes gleam in the afternoon sunlight. Amelie spares the girls a wave as she and Gerard twist into a new contortion, their heads bending together, exchanging little whispers only the other can hear. He adjusts her head scarf, tucking a bit of hair back inside. Amelie smiles, stretching forwards to brush a kiss against his cheek, and the crowd sighs.

Aleksandra catches sight of Hana sauntering through the crowd, mouth running a mile a minute as she directs people to the food, to the attractions, over to the big top, talking up the show. Her little top hat sits jauntily atop her head, and every motion is punctuated by a flourish of her white gloves. For every person she sends on, there’s another one hanging around just to hear her speak.


	6. Cryptid Roadtrip AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Free to a good home!

Jesse’s just a normal human hanging out with all these strange beasties. He’s got a knack for noticing strange things (turning Deadeye into the Sight), but that’s about it. Jesse ran into Gabe because of some sort of hazing ritual–the other ranch hands stick you out in the fields next to a goat and say, “The chupacabra’ll eat either you or the goat, buddy,” and then run around in the dark to scare the newbie. 

Except this time the chupacabra  _did_  show up, and Jesse had a half-hysterical but very polite ramble at it while it ate the goat and eyed him the entire time. At the end of it, the chupacabra licks its chops and says, “you’re just a kid, aren’t you?"and for a split second Jesse forgets he’s terrified and yelps very indignantly, "I AM SEVENTEEN!”

That’s how Jesse ends up with a chupacabra following him around in the fields and chatting with him to while away the day.

Gabe’s the chupacabra in question, and keeps nastier things away from the ranch in return for a goat or two. If a xolo had porcupine spines, you might approach what he looks like. 

Jack’s an American unicorn, something that looks like an American Cream had a wild night with a particularly satanic goat, complete with creepy glowing goat eyes. He’s always annoyed when people assume “I’m a unicorn” means “I’m tiny and delicate.” He’s also tired of people wondering why an unicorn is out in a corn field–can’t they see it’s his Magic Grove?

Jack ends up leaving his Magic Grove to travel the world because he’s tired of virgins attempting to seduce and/or trap him. Jesse’s the one who notices Jack’s Not Human out all of the ranch hands because the glamour/magic hiding Jack’s eyes doesn’t work on him. Imagine a big blond guy with goat eyes. That’s Jack.

Genji may be a disgraced dragon, but he still can make sure there’s enough rain on Jesse’s ranch to get the grass growing well for the cattle. Genji is in America because a) that’s where he landed after his fight with Hanzo and b) irc the things that are traditionally able to hurt Eastern dragons are phoenixes and tigers, and we don’t have a lot of either. (I mean, as long as he stays away from zoos)(and I bet the thunderbird could give him a run for his money but he doesn’t know it exists)(also fun fact up in pnw we have a lighting dragon).

 Genji wants to keep traveling, but doesn’t want to leave Jesse. 

Jack stumbles onto this and accidentally helps Genji out by telling Jesse stories of things he’s seen. Finally caught up in the excitement, Jesse asks to travel with Jack. Gabe goes with because someone has to be the sensible adult here.

Insert weird wacky roadtrip full of cryptids and mythological critters!

Jack just charms people into giving them dinner on the house, and they all sleep in his truck. The truck is traded for a van early on because it’s hard to fit four people in a pickup and have it be comfy.

It’d be fun if they ran into the Ogopogo up in Canada, because it’s one of those cryptids that has a silly name to English ears but its origin story is literally, “This guy was so evil he turned into a lake serpent but now if you don’t give him some meat he’ll drown you.“ It’s possible Gabe’s aware of just how nasty the Ogopogo is, but I don’t think the others would know if they don’t read any of the handy signs. 

They wander around in PNW forests because Jesse wants to find Sasquatch. Gabe complains about the rain.

Mothman and Jack creep each other out because they turn around and each sees a large shape with glowing eyes where it’s not supposed to be. Mothman screeches in alarm and Jack makes a noise a lot like a freaked-out horse. There’s a lot of panicked flailing to get away from the scary thing on both sides. Genji, the little shit, cackles and takes pictures.


	7. Wing AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free to a good home! You can find some doodles of these ideas here: http://solrika.tumblr.com/post/176323616063/some-wing-comparisons-for-fun-you-can-find-a

Wings are sorta like daemons, in that they give an insight into your personality/fate, with the caveat that they’re also usually location/heritage specific (ie you’re not gonna get white people with tropical bird wings).

Jack’s got red-tailed hawk wings because they’re in Indiana, and they’re sorta an everyman kind of bird–not patriotic like a bald eagle, but almost everyone in the USA knows those hawks or has heard of them. I also liked the “hawk noise substituted for actual eagle noise” thing that happens in movies, since to me it somehow suggests the figurehead the UN wants him to be (if he actually is or not is another story).

Gabe’s got crow wings (though he lies and says they’re raven wings to make them sound more impressive). They’re clever birds. Such clever, clever birds. Fits tactician Gabe to a t. Crows will also attack things much bigger/dangerous than they are. And they’re little shits.

I also had the idea that Fareeha’s original wings were cut off and replaced with the Raptora suit’s rockets/wings. To be a Raptora pilot, you can’t have your wings out there, you need to be integrated with the suit. I thought it was a good way to symbolize her commitment to JUSTICE and also provide a nice little knife-twist to how Ana never wanted her to be part of a war, and yet Fareeha found a way to be forever marked by it.

Reinhardt has swan wings because those things are meant to carry a lot of weight, and they look ornamental (like Reinhardt) but they will mess you up (also like Reinhardt).

Genji had sparrowhawk wings. He’s wingless post-Hanzo, and struggles a lot with the loss of his flight. 

Jesse has the wings of a California Condor. I liked the mirror of their almost-extinction and then successful reintroduction to Jesse’s journey of rehabilitation by Gabriel. They’re surprisingly fast (56 mph!). And those wings are massive, which means Jesse can carry Genji around without effort.   
“The condor is a significant bird to many Californian Native American groups” according to Wikipedia, so I figure it’s also a nice nod to Jesse being mixed with indigenous groups. (I don’t really know who lives down there, so I’m keeping it vague. Please remember to do research if you want to go more in depth than a nod.) 

Hana has skua wings. They’re migratory (calls to when she eventually leaves S.Korea to join Overwatch) and predatory, and I liked that they’re seabirds since she fights the kaiju-omnic in the sea. They’re also apparently pretty agile and they pass through s.Korea, so it fits with my "regional/heritage” rule.

Lucio’s wings are some sort of parrot, I think a macaw or something. Pretty and loud and smart and entertaining and fun to have around. And They can snap through bone with their beaks (incidentally, in daemon au his daemon is a macaw for the same reason).

Hanzo is a goshawk since they’re known to eat other, smaller raptors (like sparrowhawks).


	8. Sombra Talking to McCree

She’s hidden her neural implants under a purple hat, but her eyes are still as wicked as ever over the rim of her latte. “I didn’t expect to get a message from  _you_ , vaquero.”

Jesse McCree shrugs, taking a sip of his own drink. “’m fulla surprises.” He gestures towards his waiting truck. “Figure’d we take a drive ‘n’ talk.”

“Lead on, then,” Sombra purrs, and he rolls his eyes and goes to unlock the door for her. There’s a few moments of quiet while he gets the truck started and pulls out on the road, and then she pokes him in the shoulder with one sharp little nail. She doesn’t hide her giggle at his flinch.“So what’re we talking about?”

“Sure you’ve heard of Efi Oladele,” Jesse drawls.

“The little genius.”

“Yeah.” He takes another sip of his drink. “I want your help keepin’ her outta th’ family business.”

Sombra arches an eyebrow, throws some theatrics into her voice. “You’re asking  _me_? The known Talon  _terrorist_ –”

“Aw, cut th’ crap.” Jesse shoots her a look as sharp as her nails. “I know y’know who you’re workin’ with in there. If Gabe’s keepin’ y’alive, you’ve gotta have at least a lil’ heart.” He doesn’t leave her scrambling for a reply, just soldiers on. “I got m’hands full with Morrison’s bullshit–y’gotta handle th’ Talon side’a things.” 

“Why’s it matter to you?”

Jesse keeps his eyes on the road when he answers. “’s not like y’don’t know what it’s like t’ be in this business as a kid.” 

Sombra presses her lips together, takes another sip of her latte. He either  _knows_  or he’s guessed true as his aim, and she hates him a little for it. “She’s going to be pulled in sooner or later.”

“So let’s make it later.” 

“You’re a terrible optimist.” Sombra resists the urge to crumple her cup, instead takes a larger gulp. She doesn’t like being read this easy. Jesse’s too much like his mentor. 

“Reyes raised a bleedin’ heart.” Jesse shrugs. “Ain’t nothin’ I can change now.”

They turn right at the next stoplight. Sombra watches the storefronts go past, tracing circles around the rim of her drink. “So what–you just want me to run interference?” 

“Yeah. Keep ‘er outta all this. Let her grow up at ‘er own pace.” She can hear his grin. “You got info, so you got th’ control, right? Should be easy for ya.”

“You’re  _mean_ ,” Sombra snorts, but shakes his hand anyway. He doesn’t try to crush her fingers, just grins at her in relief, and that’s the thing that makes her tone soften. “Fine–I’ll be a damn bleeding heart with you, I guess.”

“Thankya kindly,” Jesse replies, tipping his hat.

She mimes the hat tip back at him, and triggers her translocator. He doesn’t look surprised as she fades away, just smiles and waves. If she wasn’t so sure she’s just gained an useful ally, she’d be worried. As is, though–she steps down into her workroom, keys up a screen with a thought, throws his picture into her web. It’s a little refreshing to have a mission this pure. 

 _Primo_  is as good a codename for him as any. She resolutely tells herself she’s choosing it just because  _vaquero_  sounds too ridiculous.


	9. Werewolf AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the SEP turns humans into lycans and lycans into super-weres.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for one mention of suicide ideation

Jack has suspicions on why the humans-turned-weres don’t smell like true lycans, why their heads are a little boxier and their ears a little more like tulip petals instead of densely-furred triangles. He’s not the only one–he can see the other true lycans exchanging glances whenever one of the humans shift. Everyone’s got a hunch that something other than wolf went into that cocktail. Gabe’s the one who  _says_  it first, though. And to a scientist, no less.

“You changed us into  _dogs_ ,” he growls, the noise reverberating in his chest in a way it wouldn’t before the SEP. “You made us fucking  _dogs_.” 

“Wolf-dog hybrids–” the scientist tries, but Gabriel’s furious. 

“You wanted us  _obedient_ , didn’t you?” he spits. “You wanted loyal, mindless soldiers. You wanted fighting dogs who’d never bite the hands that threw them into the damn ring.” 

“We didn’t sign up to be your bitches,” snaps Gutierrez, stepping up besides Gabriel. She’s half his size but just as fierce, hackles visibly bristling up her neck, the shift already rippling under her skin. “What else are you hiding from us? What else did you do?”

“Ma’am–” the scientist squeaks, fumbling for the security button. “Stand down, ma’am–”

“You never told us about this,” snarls Thompson, brown eyes gone flat. He ignores the incoming security guards, instead stares down the cringing scientists. “What else?” 

Jack trades glances with the others in the room, and as one they slowly start sidling to block the door and guard the human-weres’ six. He and the other true lycans might not immediately understand exactly why being made kin to a little cousin is such an insult, but he can extrapolate. It’s one thing to live as a snow-white European wolf, another entirely to be a black man involuntarily mixed with a pitbull.

“Stand down,” snaps a guard, and as one the wolves turn with a snarl, fangs flashing. 

“Get the commander,” growls Gabriel into the silence. “He has some explaining to do.”

~

Wilhelm Reinhardt smells just enough like wolf to make Jack nervous. They’ve already gone through the trouble of working Torbjorn Lindholm into the Strike Team’s dynamics, and now there’s a huge Crusader who might make a bid for Gabriel’s spot as team leader. 

“I wish this was a real Pack,” he mutters to Amari, watching from a corner as Gabriel shows Reinhardt around their base. “Not this… thrown-together thing. We haven’t bonded at all. It’s ripe for fights.” 

Amari, mercifully human and exempt from lycan power dynamics, rolls her eyes at him. “If someone doesn’t respect the chain of command, they’re out.”

“Chain of command is a human thing,” Jack mutters. Gabriel sounds relaxed, certainly looks it. Reinhardt hasn’t made any threatening moves. Jack’s still anxious. 

“He’s not a were anyway,” Amari points out. “Crusaders are just enhanced humans, not real hybrids like Gabriel. I don’t think you have to worry.” 

“I’ve heard stories,” Jack grumbles. 

Amari rolls her eyes at him again. “We’re all professionals here, Morrison.” 

“We were supposed to get their leader, not a cocky pup,” Jack continues, ignoring the fact that he’s not much older than Reinhardt himself. “If he tries anything–”

“Reyes can take care of himself,” Ana replies. She elbows him in the side, hard enough to produce a wince. “Stop fretting.” 

Jack can’t help his irritated rumble. “If he tries to jump Gabe…” 

“If he tries to jump our superior, he’s getting fired.” She pats his shoulder, unconcerned. “C’mon. Let’s go have some tea and leave them to it. Base tours are so boring.”

~

There’ll be a photo from the Crisis that gets swept through the news outlets, eventually becomes a few murals, and gets seared into Jack’s brain. They’d spent the day winning a city back from the omnics, and Gabriel had insisted on joining the search and rescue teams scouring the rubble for survivors. 

He’s exhausted in the photo, and it shows in the lines creased into his face and the bags under his eyes, the way the shift hasn’t fully let go of his body. Jack remembers how the stink of smoke and souring blood had clung to their fingers, how mud crusted their boots and the hem of Gabriel’s coat. He’d wanted nothing more than a bath and a long, long nap. But Gabriel had gone out, and so Jack had followed. 

In the picture, Gabriel’s shouldering up a piece of concrete wall, steadying it with one arm and reaching out to help a woman and her child out from under the crumbling building with the other. He’s mustered up a reassuring smile for them, eyes soft and gentle in a way that most other war photographers fail to capture. 

Jack had been there to see the fine tremble in Gabriel’s arms, his quiet despair as their search had turned up more bodies than living people. He’d known that Gabriel wanted to  _stop_. The night before, he’d worried that maybe today was the one where Gabriel’d eat his own shotgun. 

But for the survivors, Gabriel had smiled and pretended that the concrete was light as a feather, that everything was okay, that it would all work out, somehow. He had a way of making you believe that. It was his smile, Jack thought. Nothing that kind could exist in a world headed for damnation. 

_I think I love you_ , Jack had realized, just as the photographer snapped his camera lens.  _I think I could follow you to the ends of the Earth_. 

“What’re you looking at, Morrison?” Gabriel had asked, smile still clinging to his lips. 

“A big damn superhero,” Jack had shot back, a little too honest. 

It made Gabe laugh, though, made the woman giggle and her child grin. And that had been worth the blush on Jack’s cheeks. 

They’d fallen back into step with the searchers, hands brushing. And Jack had let himself turn the idea of  _mate_  over in his head, of  _marriage_  and  _together forever_. 

He liked the thought of that. 

 

~

Jack’s new offices are shiny and sterile. They’re a far cry from the musty tents they used to use as command bases in the Crisis. He resists the urge to roll all over the place, get his scent into every nook and cranny so it smells more like home. 

“You need a plant or something,” Gabriel says, surveying the premises. “This is so… white.” 

“I know.” Jack wrinkles his nose at the pristine desk. “It’s too clean.” 

Ordinarily, Gabe might make a joke about christening said desk, but instead he just continues to look around, shoulders a hair too tight. “Got a good view of the statue.”

“Yeah.” Jack glances outside, back at Gabriel. “Grand Mesa’s view is better.” 

“More natural, at least.” 

“Yeah.” Jack shifts his weight. If he was on all fours, he’d be flattening back his ears and tucking his tail in apology. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“I can be more hands-on this way.” Gabriel finally looks back at him, and his eyes soften. “It’s fine, Jackie.” 

“You sure?” Jack sidles up until he can tuck his head under Gabe’s chin. He has to scrunch down a little, but it’s worth it to feel Gabriel relax at the gentle reassurance.  _You’re still the boss_. 

“Mmhm.” Gabriel nuzzles at Jack’s hair, play-mouthes at his forehead to make him snort a laugh. “But you really should get a plant in here. Smells like cleaning fluid.” 

Nipping at Gabe’s throat, Jack replies, “I’ll let you choose one. Since you’re the hands-on guy, and all.” 

“I’ll show you hands-on,” Gabe laughs, and hefts Jack onto the desk. His grin is genuine, and a little wicked. “How about we make this place smell better, statue-boy?”

Jack grins back, tugs Gabe down into a kiss. “As long as you let me return the favor in Grand Mesa.”

“You got a deal, Jackie,” Gabe hums, and then they turn their attention to things much more pleasurable than the sterile office.  


End file.
